


Went broke believing that the simple should be hard

by Deenerann



Series: Schitt's Creek Musings [3]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22564867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deenerann/pseuds/Deenerann
Summary: David has lots of thoughts about mid-range denim. Set in Season 3, ending at Grad night.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Schitt's Creek Musings [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615900
Comments: 10
Kudos: 155





	Went broke believing that the simple should be hard

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from an old Matt Nathanson song that I thought fit the theme

Alexis was going to be the death of him.

It was such an off-handed comment, completely ungrounded in reality, but David couldn’t evict it from his brain. He was fully aware his sister only made the ridiculous statement because she couldn’t comprehend someone wasn’t into her _—not_ because she actually believed what she said.

There was no way a guy like Patrick was into him. It was not even in the realm of logical possibility… so why couldn’t he stop thinking about it?

It played on a loop in David’s head throughout most of the morning at the shop. He was having a hard time focusing on anything else and wasn’t even sure why. It’s not like Patrick was even his type—if he had a type, anyway—but if he _did_ , he seriously doubted that a business major wearing boring jeans would be it. Either way, his morning of daydreaming about a straight-laced guy in a button up dress shirt made absolutely zero sense.

_Mid-range denim, David. You’re being ridiculous. Stop thinking about him._

So, that was why when Patrick showed up in the store later that afternoon, David thought he’d conjured him up.

He was so flustered by the object of his morning fantasies standing right in front of him that he didn’t know how to react. Before he knew it, he agreed to a business partnership with this person. What in the actual fuck was he doing? It was probably a horrible idea, but he couldn’t say no. Something in the way Patrick was so sure of himself and his ability to get additional funds for the store… it made David go a little weak in the knees.

Bad sign. Bad, _bad_ sign. 

* * *

Working with Patrick was going to be the death of him.

David couldn’t stop flirting with him, and mentally kicked himself every time he did. Even worse than his constant internal humiliation was the weird vibe surrounding them when the two of them were alone in the store—which was _all_ the time, since they hadn’t even opened yet. David had no idea what that vibe meant. More likely it was just something he made up in his head.

Oh, who was he kidding? It was most _definitely_ just his imagination.

_Mid-range denim, David. Remember… someone who wears mid-range denim isn’t into you._

Despite his sensible internal monologue, David found himself glancing in Patrick’s direction, watching as his _business_ partner emerged from the back room. They’d quickly fallen into a (un)comfortable routine—David constantly rearranging products around the store and trying to ignore his growing feelings, and Patrick making sure their business needs were met—all while probably not giving David a second thought.

David sighed and went back to shifting a bottle of body milk slightly to the right.

“Everything okay, David?” Patrick asked.

He loved that Patrick always seemed to start or end sentences with his name. Sometimes it was both. David had no idea that he could enjoy hearing his name said out loud so much, but here he was, trying not to smile like a twelve-year-old with his first crush.

“Mmhmm, sure.” David nodded, clearing his throat. “Um, actually, I’m a bit hungry. I think I’m going to head to the café. I’ll pick you up something, if you want?”

“That would be great, thanks.” Patrick cocked his head and watched David, his gaze assessing. “You sure you’re okay? There’s something weird going on with your face.”

David gasped and raised his hands to his cheeks. “What is it? Is there a wrinkle? Where’s a mirror?” He glanced around, his heart beating a staccato, and started to run toward the bathroom.

Patrick laughed behind him, the sound low and amused. “David, you look fine. Your skin is as perfect as ever. You just looked like you had a lot going on inside your head.”

David froze mid-step. Had Patrick just complemented his _skin_? His heart rate picked up, this time _not_ with panic.

He scrunched his eyes shut and turned around, peeking one eye open to look at Patrick.

His partner— _business partner, David. He’s your BUSINESS partner_ —watched him with a small smile on his face. Something in that smile shoved David further down the path to a complete, ridiculous, unsubstantiated crush.

His skin grew hot and he pretty much sprinted out of the store.

Oh, this was very, very bad.

* * *

His inability to stop saying the wrong thing was going to be the death of him.

“As long as it doesn’t get hard—and that’s something—that’s what I just said to you, so….”

David couldn’t decipher Patrick’s expression. It was a cross between his usual patient smile and what David would normally interpret as sexual interest, but that could NOT be the case here.

His brain misfired a bit.

_Mid-range denim, David. Get it together._

“Um, with that, I think I’m going to go get some coffee.”

He fled before Patrick could respond.

* * *

His family was going to be the death of him.

David couldn’t believe they forgot his _birthday_. It was one thing to forget when they were rich and living in different cities—living very different lives. But here? Where they barely had twenty steps before they ran into each other? Incorrect!

He was being snarky to everyone in the store, including Patrick, but he couldn’t help it. His feelings were genuinely hurt. When Patrick asked if everything was okay, it almost felt natural to open up and talk to him. David certainly didn’t expect Patrick to ask him out because of it.

He had the push down the little spark of hope that shot up his spine because of _course_ Patrick was just being nice. He wasn’t ASK asking him out. Not like a date. That definitely didn’t happen. This was only a friendly dinner between two business partners.

Two.

 _Two_ business partners.

_Mid-range denim, David. For fuck’s sake… mid-range denim!_

He grabbed his phone and texted Stevie.

* * *

Stevie was going to be the death of him.

The unwrapped present sat on the table, a symbol of unfounded hope, mocking him.

Why had she put that thought in his head?

Oh, who was he kidding? The thought had been in his head for _months_ , ever since he first saw Patrick standing in Ray’s living room. David still didn’t understand the instant pull, but he was tired of examining it. He just wanted to open the present and see if it was anything remotely sentimental.

It probably was a pair of socks.

Boring, crew-neck socks.

_Mid-range denim. Not going to do sentimental for you, David._

As far as that went, no one had ever done sentimental for him, not even his family.

David ignored Patrick’s panicked expression and pulled the present toward him. He was tired of waiting. Stevie certainly wasn’t helping his anxiety.

She never did.

When the tissue paper fell away and David saw the receipt, his heart did a little lurch and his pulse beat in his ears, heavy and viscous. Stevie and Patrick were talking to him, but David couldn’t really focus on the words. Everything moved around him in slow motion.

This was _definitely_ sentimental.

David glanced up at Patrick. He was pretty sure his heart was in his eyes, but he was just so damn shocked.

Patrick stared back at him and they had some kind of moment. David felt it in his knees.

He didn’t trust his voice, but he needed to say something. “Um, this is _not_ nothing. So, thank you.”

Patrick just smiled, but then Twyla showed up with horrifying mozzarella sticks, and then Stevie was leaving, and suddenly he was alone with Patrick—one-on-one.

David had never been more terrified or happy in his life.

Now he just needed to get through the rest of the date— _ohmygod, it’s a date_ —without making a fool of himself.

* * *

Sitting in Patrick’s car was going to be the death of him.

Patrick was sitting too close. Within touching distance. And David wanted to touch. He _vibrated_ with the need to touch, but terror held him back.

Despite the fact he was 87% sure it was a real date, he still wasn’t 100% sure. And that unknown 13% filled his head with the same, constant thought.

_Mid-range denim, David. He’s not going to want you to touch him._

Their awkward banter stalled and David sat there, unsure of what to do other than nod and smile and watch Patrick’s beautiful face. He wanted to touch _so_ badly, but that was _such_ a bad idea, and he was going to come out of his skin if he just. didn’t. touch—

Patrick’s gaze flickered to his lips and then back up to his eyes and something inside David shifted. There was no way he could let this moment pass by. He had to know before the _need_ of it made him spontaneously combust.

Leaning forward, he grabbed Patrick’s face, pulling him toward him at the same time he closed the distance between their bodies.

When their lips finally— _finally!_ —touched, Patrick let out a soft exhale of surprise and then suddenly, amazingly, he was kissing David back, his lips tentative at first but then slightly more assured.

David had kissed a lot of people in his life. Like, seriously, way more people than he wanted to think about. He’d kissed people in exotic and mundane places, in chaotic and extreme circumstances, but nothing—absolutely no other kiss—had felt like this. The all-encompassing _rightness_ of it. It was almost too much to deal with.

He forced himself to pull back. He wanted to say something, to watch Patrick, to kiss him again, but he didn’t know what his next move should be. He’d never been so nervous in his entire life.

Then Patrick thanked him. Told him he’d never done that before. Told him he’d _wanted_ it.

It all felt like a dream, and David expected to suddenly wake up in his tiny, uncomfortable twin bed alone, with his family still ignoring his birthday.

“Can we talk tomorrow?” Patrick asked, and David pulled himself out of his thoughts.

“We can talk whenever you want. Just preferably not before ten because I’m not really a morning person.”

Why was he joking? Probably because all he wanted to do was kiss him again. He quickly undid he seatbelt and escaped the car before he did something he’d probably regret. Patrick had never kissed a guy before— _I’m his first! Holy shit!—_ and David was pretty sure he’d spook him if he continued down the path he really, really wanted to continue down.

“Goodnight, David.” Patrick’s voice was soft. Fond. Full of promise.

David’s heart thumped hard in his chest.

“Goodnight, Patrick.”


End file.
